


collagenous fibers

by halfwheeze



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Everyone besides Mal and Evie is mentioned, F/F, Red String of Fate, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Soulmates AU, limited dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 12:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17560592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfwheeze/pseuds/halfwheeze
Summary: mal isn’t supposed to use magic in auradon. this is something she knows, something she’s been told, something that’s supposed to be some uncommunicated blanket of puritan protection that sways all from the willowing ways of evil and into the gracious arms of good before the boogeyman comes out from under the bed and eats us all. that is something she knows. she also knows that carlos and jay had known each other for their entire lives before finding out that a red string connected them at their pinkies since forever, and would for the rest of their lives. she knows that she doesn’t want to be made a fool of like that, especially if this goes the way she hopes it will.





	collagenous fibers

**Author's Note:**

> this is just an idea that came to me, so i hope you guys like it!

Mal isn’t supposed to use magic in Auradon. This is something she knows, something she’s been told, something that’s supposed to be some uncommunicated blanket of Puritan protection that sways all from the willowing ways of evil and into the gracious arms of good before the boogeyman comes out from under the bed and eats us all. That is something she knows. She also knows that Carlos and Jay had known each other for their entire lives before finding out that a red string connected them at their pinkies since forever, and would for the rest of their lives. She knows that she doesn’t want to be made a fool of like that, especially if this goes the way she hopes it will. 

It’s not that she has any particular hopes for this. She doesn’t dream of big brown eyes and bright pink lips, a heart shaped face accented by dark blue hair falling down to shoulders clad in usually fashionably distressed clothing. She doesn’t hope that the hand that holds hers sometimes means something, or that the nights she doesn’t spend alone mean as much to the girl that shares them as they do to Mal. She doesn’t imagine what it would be like if Evie thought of her just in the way that Mal thought of Evie. 

She doesn’t need her spellbook for everything. There are still witches learning the old ways and spreading them all over the canvas that is the internet, and it’s not hard to parse through which ones are hopeful imaginings and which ones are the real deal. Mal alters a spell that is meant to manipulate a soulmate tie into something that would only show her where it lead, something that Evie had tried with her mirror a thousand times before turning it in. Now, maybe Mal will find out for the both of them, if it works out with Mal’s soulmate first (if, god forbid, she has to do it twice to find out Evie’s as well). 

She does her spellwork more neatly than she does anything else, nothing like the sporadic and sometimes sloppy way that she allows the paint from her cans to get all over everything. She cannot afford to mess things up, especially not when she’s experimenting in such a fashion, especially not with who she is hoping is on the other side. She’s not sure when she started caring who her soulmate was, but she thinks it was somewhere in the range of Auradonian princes and princesses, locked together by the universe, and so much happier for it. Maybe, it was somewhere in the time of Uma, already having found two of her soulmates and knowing from childhood that there would be another. 

She knows it’s important to Evie. Evie had always dreamt of a soulmate that was a prince, darling and dark eyed and maybe someone with a summer castle. That was before Auradon taught her that it was okay to walk with someone you love, not just someone that provides you with something you didn’t have before, and it’s okay if that person you love is a girl, even if you’re also a girl. Now, she talks about girls and boys in equal measure, fine hands along with broad shoulders and more about glinting smiles than about short hair that she can run her fingers through. It gives Mal hope. 

It’s a potion that she pours over her left hand now, right where the red string that Jay tells her about sits on his hand. He gets so excited about it sometimes still, looking down at his hand with the kind of look that wouldn’t be out of place on a woman newly engaged, hopeful and sweet and sappy. It sickens Mal, and Jay harps every single time she makes fun of him for it, and it’s even more fun to make fun with that still. In return, he’ll start talking about Carlos, the way that his hair seems to curl toward the sun if they sit in the light long enough, the way that he speaks science with his hands as much as his mouth, the way that he traces formulas into Jay’s skin as he tries to fall asleep. Something in Mal wants something like that. 

The string forms slowly, sluggish enough that she worries that she’s done something wrong before it fully forms, trailing out of the wall to her left and assumably throughout the school to wherever it may lead. She stands to follow it anxiously, wiping her hands down the front of her dress to smooth it before she remembers exactly who she is. If a soulmate shouldn’t like her ruffled, messy appearance for what it is, then she shouldn’t want them at all. Carlos teaches her that all over again all the time, every time she tries to be someone else for the benefit of those around her. Even when she lowers her voice for him, ever conscience of the past that he still wears beneath his skin, he tells her to be herself. 

She follows the line cautiously, following it around the walls instead of through it like it would like her to, and she tries not to feel the hope that boils at the back of her mind as she seems to grow ever closer to the room on the science hallway that Evie has staked her claim in for design purposes. It’s where Evie had said she would be all day, but Mal cannot afford to already hope, cannot build herself up for her beautiful, vibrant smile when she might end up with some prince at the end of her line, or, worse, the bay of water that would lead her to the Isle if only she could get there on her own two feet. 

After finding his own soulmates on the Isle, Ben has taken all of the children who haven’t committed a major violent crime off of it. Uma, Harry and Gil live in the lap of luxury while the rest of the Isle kids don’t have it too bad either, certainly not King and Queen consorts, but still much better than they would have been on the island. Dizzy’s brittle bones and fading skin tone are finally looking healthy again, and Mal knows how happy Evie is about it, how energetic she is everytime she even thinks of the Tremaine girl. Mal has her own fondness for Dizzy because of it, because of the happiness that Dizzy gives Evie. 

The string leads her closer and closer to where she knows Evie is, and Mal’s heart pounds, forcing her own hope back down her throat. She’s sweating, which is disgusting, but she keeps on her leather jacket anyway; it’s as much of a safety net as it’s ever been something to keep her warm. She would only feel more comfortable if Jay would somehow be okay to experience this with her. He had experienced most of her entire life with her, and he’s the closest thing to a security blanket she’s ever had. 

When she walks into Evie’s room, there’s no one else there. The room is empty and there’s a string across it, linking her own pinky to Evie’s in the most reassuring act of the universe that Mal could imagine. Evie has just noticed her entrance, lighting up as she sits up to greet her, but Mal just leans down, captures her in a kiss with the last vestibules of her bravery. She delights in the way that Evie immediately takes control of it, standing from her seat in a fluid motion as she pushes Mal back, keeping them connected as she gets Mal to a wall. She pulls away just as she crowds Mal. She smiles, soft and simple and Evie, and Mal loves her and loves her and loves her. 

“Hello to you too,” Evie greets, though she’s still smiling and so obviously not annoyed that Mal doesn’t even begin to go on the defensive. Instead, she holds up her pinky finger, showing Evie the string around it, watching to see her reaction. Evie’s shoulders fall, complete relaxation, as she looks down at her own pinky finger as well. She kisses Mal softly, a hand shifting to tangle itself in Mal’s hair; Mal doesn’t bother to notice that it’s the left hand, the hand that marks them as belonging to one another for the rest of their lives. 

**Author's Note:**

> prompt me @halfwheeze on tumblr!


End file.
